Twelve Sentence Short Story

An Audience with the King

The legendary B.B. King has become one of the last remaining original bluesman, his singing as forceful and renowned today as it ever was, his phrasing and vibrato on his guitar Lucille as recognizable as an old friend, and his tone as characteristic music itself. Most people only hear a legend such as this through CD's or through videos; I, on the other hand, have been within throwing distance of the man himself. A stroke of luck, similar to a choir of angels singing, revealed to my parents and my aunt that B.B. was going to be in Fayetteville in September, and we immediately started waiting to get tickets. Once the tickets were bought, the dreadful waiting game began, slogging through the weeks, over the days, to the date, and against all odds (I mean, B.B. is eighty-four years old; you never know when he may check out). I waited and waited and finally the day came to leave for Fayetteville. Enough of this. I was ready to see B.B., still hoping that nothing would go wrong, that B.B. would not die before I could see him, and that the show would be everything I hoped it would be. An old saying goes, "Seek, and thou shall receive awesome tickets." Play Lucille and sing the blues, B.B. passionately did. Was the concert everything I hoped it would be? Seeing as how I was amazed, and inspired, and awe-struck, I would say that the show was what I hoped to see. While he may not have played the whole show, a result of thirty-plus years of diabetes, he never was without some insight brought forth on Lucille or through his words, he was never without his characteristic charm, like that of a caring grandfather wanting to share his wisdom to the audience, revealing to all at the show that no matter how old he may be or whoever comes along after him, B.B. King will always be the King of the Blues.